


all that icing and all that cake

by Cinaed



Series: Days of Donut [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Announcements, Background Relationships, Cake, Developing Relationship, Ensemble Cast, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Season/Series 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-26 15:17:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18719683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: The cake explodes because of course it does. Donut jumps out of it, tossing fistfuls of red confetti. The icing and confetti get everywhere, including on Grif’s face. He wipes some of the icing off and grimly picks the confetti out of it, noticing, even more grimly, that the confetti is shaped like hearts.“Surprise!” Donut says, beaming from ear to ear. “Wash and I are dating!”--Wash and Donut have a very important announcement. Not everyone takes it in stride.





	all that icing and all that cake

**Author's Note:**

> Day four of Days of Donut! 
> 
> I originally wrote this as a [joke post](http://cinaed.tumblr.com/post/183995937939/a-post-season-17-scene) on Tumblr and then expanded it into this fic. The background pairings are Grif/Simmons and one-sided Sarge/Washington.
> 
> Thanks go out as always to Aryashi for reading this over and to Zalia for coming up with Tucker's autobiography title.
> 
> **Warnings for Season 17 spoilers.**

It goes like this: Grif smells icing.

Now, in a fair and just universe, icing is always a good thing. It means cake, cupcakes, and other wonderful desserts that Grif can eat. Bitter experience, however, has taught him to associate the scent with the imminent arrival of Officer Hot Pants.

Dread fills him. He looks around, but doesn’t immediately see the cake. It must be nearby though. It’s not a particularly windy day. “Simmons,” he says urgently. “Simmons, do you smell that?”

“Gross,” Simmons says, apparently on pure reflex. Then he smells it too. “Oh, crap.”

Grif follows his nose. They come out of the new base built on Iris. Everyone else is already there, surrounding a white cake with pink and yellow piping that spells out Big News. “Oh god, there's a cake.” Grif takes a breath, trying and failing to find optimism. “Okay, don’t panic, maybe we’re safe.” Then he does a headcount. “Wait, fuck, _where’s Donut_ \--”

The cake explodes because of course it does. Donut jumps out of it, tossing fistfuls of red confetti. The icing and confetti get everywhere, including on Grif’s face. He wipes some of the icing off and grimly picks the confetti out of it, noticing, even more grimly, that the confetti is shaped like hearts.

“Surprise!” Donut says, beaming from ear to ear. “Wash and I are dating!”

“Goddamnit, Donut,” Grif says through gritted teeth, too angry to be relieved that Donut isn’t dressed up as Officer Hot Pants, “why do you always fucking waste good cake--” Donut’s words actually register. Grif blinks. “Wait, what?”

Wash coughs. “Yeah, surprise. I probably wouldn’t have announced it with a cake, but Donut wanted to make the announcement special.” He shrugs, but he’s smiling too, a small, helplessly fond curl of his lips. He plucks a heart confetti off Donut’s cheek, and Grif almost gags.  

“What?” Simmons screeches. At least he sounds as horrified as Grif. “I don't-- I mean-- when did this happen?!”

Donut laughs and shrugs. “Well, you know what they say: the couple that time-travels together, stays together.”

“T-that’s not what _anyone_ says!” Simmons protests. “I time-traveled with Sarge for a year and we definitely didn’t--”

Grif groans. “Jesus Christ, Simmons, why would you put that image in my head. Why? Haven’t we all suffered enough?”

Carolina steps forward. She looks amused as she says, “Well, I'm happy for you both. Congratulations.”

“When are you getting married?” Caboose demands. There are tears in his eyes, and his hands are clasped together in front of him. He vibrates excitedly in place as Wash laughs and says, “Jumping the gun there, Caboose. We’re dating, not engaged.”

Meanwhile, Tucker looks pissed. “What the fuck? Donut is getting laid more than me? _Donut_? Are we sure the timeline isn’t still broken?” He squints around like he expects Genkins to pop out from behind a tree.

Kai wrinkles her nose. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Tucker, but ugh, Donut, seriously? You’re dating a _cop_? I thought you were cool!” She gives Wash a long once-over that makes Grif want to die, and which makes Wash blush. “I mean, yeah, he’s hot, but you _never_ fuck a cop--”

“Not a cop,” Wash says, and is ignored.

Sarge claps Donut on the shoulder, hard enough that Donut stumbles sideways and has to be steadied by Wash. Sarge has a weird look on his face, half-approval, half-jealousy, which is just the cherry on top of this fucking disaster sundae in Grif’s opinion. “Good for you, Donut! Wait, does this mean Agent Washington is an honorary Red? Who am I kidding, of course it does!” Sarge looks smug. “I’m proud of ya, son.”

Beside Grif, Simmons whispers, “I don't understand what’s happening right now.”

A terrible thought occurs. Grif groans, loudly enough that everyone looks at him. “Oh, gross, I time-traveled with _Doc_. Now I have _that_ mental image. Fuck you, Simmons.”

Doc glares at Grif. There’s a hint of O’Malley in his voice when he snaps, “Yes, well, Grif, the idea is just as unappealing to me!” Then he’s back to full-on Doc, looking as teary-eyed as Caboose. “Goodness, guys, I’m so happy for you!”

Behind them, Lopez deadpans, “¿Crees que eso es malo? Estaba atrapado en el infierno con Caboose.”  _You think that's bad? I was stuck in Hell with Caboose._

“Yeah, that was fun,” Caboose says, beaming at Lopez.

“Ahem!” Wash says loudly. When Grif glances back at him, his smile is brittle. “Thanks for the congratulations...those of you who actually congratulated us.” _The rest of you suck_ , his expression silently adds.

Donut laughs. There’s still confetti in his hair, and now that Grif is paying more attention, he realizes that both Wash and Donut have yellow and pink piping stains on their hands, like they decorated the cake together. “Actually, Wash, this is going much better than expected! Sarge hasn’t tried to shoot anyone!”

Wash frowns. “Why would he-- never mind.”

Sarge scoffs. “Be a waste of bullets, Donut. Agent Washington is the kind of man who devotes himself to one person! Even if my shotgun _accidentally_ discharged in your direction and I waited the proper mourning period, he wouldn’t move on.”

“...I have no idea how to react to that,” Wash says.

“Aw, that’s sweet, Sarge,” Donut says, beaming.

Wash looks dubious. “Is it?”

“Hey, Tucker,” Carolina says, sounding even more amused. “You owe me a hundred bucks.”

“Oh yeah, bitch, you owe me money too!” Kai says. She grabs Tucker around the neck and wrestles him closer, her hand patting his ass on her way to his wallet as he yelps in surprise and yells, “What the fuck, K!”

“Actually, I think you owe me money too,” Doc says.

“And me,” says Wash, looking smug, followed by a too-innocent look from Donut as he adds thoughtfully, “You know, I think I was part of that bet too.”

Tucker groans loudly while Kai fishes his wallet out of his pocket and tosses it to Carolina. He makes a few attempts at breaking free, and then sags in her grip. “Fuck, guys, that’s like five hundred dollars! I’m a single dad, I need that money.”

“What bet?” Grif asks, slightly offended that he wasn’t part of the betting pool. At least Simmons also looks out of the loop, blinking at everyone.

Tucker makes a face. He avoids Grif’s eyes. “Uh….”  

Kai tucks a hundred into her bra and grins towards Grif. “Oh yeah, Tucker bet us all that you and Simmons would get your shit together before any other hookups happened in the group.”

“What?” Simmons squeaks. “What does that mean?!”

“It meant I thought you guys weren’t such closeted dumbasses!” Tucker snaps. “And now I’m out five hundred bucks.”

“Now, Tucker, you’ll be fine,” Wash says in fake consoling voice, smugness still coloring his features as Simmons turns bright red and Grif tries to figure out how he can murder Tucker in his sleep. “I’m sure five hundred dollars doesn’t make a dent in your royalties.”

Tucker groans at the reminder of his autobiographical bestseller, _Confessions of an Alien Casanova_. Apparently people really want to read about his surprise alien pregnancy and all the shit the Reds and Blues have gotten up to over the years. “Fuck, I should never have told K about that. If you guys are that hard up, just write your own autobiography. They’ll sell like crazy. We’re famous, remember? Like everyone on Chorus would buy them.”

“Eh, sounds like work,” Grif says, deciding it’s better to just pretend that this conversation didn’t happen. He tries to steer the conversation to less embarrassing shit. “But Donut owes me a hundred bucks for pain and suffering.” He makes to grab the hundred out of Donut’s hand, who ducks behind Wash. “Hand it over, Donut.”

Wash’s eyes narrow. He suddenly looks dangerous. “Pain and suffering?”

Grif hastily elaborates. “We’ve talked about wasting food! Like, fuck, what was the Great Cake Debate even about if you’re gonna fucking ignore the agreement? No wasting cake by jumping out of it! Fuck, dude. I’m honestly disappointed in you.”

Donut’s eyes widen. “Oh, is that what you’re worried about, Grif? I didn’t break the agreement!” He waves at the destroyed cake. “Most of this is just cardboard, and I baked a real cake for everyone!”

Grif stares, and Donut smiles earnestly at him. Most of his rage disappears, though the confusion remains. He shrugs. “Okay, in that case, congratulations I guess. Keep PDA to a minimum and we're cool.” He glances around, but there’s no other dessert in sight. “So where’s the cake?”

Simmons, still flushed a splotchy red, complains, “I still don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Oh! Oh I can explain!” Caboose says. “Church told me all about this!” He steps forward and Simmons yelps as Caboose takes his face in his hands and looms in earnestly. “Sometimes when people love each other very, very much--”

“Oh my god,” Simmons says blankly. He pats Caboose’s hands. “Uh, thanks, buddy. I think I get it. That was really helpful. Let go now?”

“Okay.” Caboose lets go, looking pleased with himself.

Simmons resettles his glasses on his nose and stares. “I just… I mean, I guess congratulations? It’s just, uh, Wash _shot_ you! Are we all pretending that didn’t happen? He _shot_ Donut!”

Wash winces slightly, but Donut shrugs. “Yeah, and he’s sorry about it.” He laughs, his smile going slightly lopsided. “Besides, everyone’s shot everyone by now! It probably should be a deal-breaker, but….” Donut grins at Wash. “Just adds a little spice to the relationship.”

“Gross,” Grif says reflexively while Sarge chuckles and nods in agreement.

“Right, I’m suing Grif and Simmons,” Tucker says. “I’m out like five hundred dollars-- wait, fuck, I forgot about Palomo, so six hundred dollars. You two dickweasels owe me for failing this badly. Like, it’s been _forever_ , how do you guys not have your shit together?”

Kai snickers. “Yeah, that’s on you, dumbass. Bro, don’t give him money.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Grif says flatly. “Also? Fuck all of you.”

“I’m not a dumbass,” Tucker complains. “But after the Temple of Procreation--”

“ _We said we weren’t talking about that_!” Grif and Simmons shout. Well, Grif shouts. Simmons screeches. Grif avoids everyone’s eyes, embarrassment churning in his gut. Fuck, no one was ever going to let that go, were they? Just because he and Simmons had-- Heat creeps up his neck, and his stupid heart stutters in his chest.

He’s actually grateful for Donut’s annoyed look and pointed, “Ahem! Refocus, people! This is my and Wash’s special day!”

“Oh no,” Caboose says, alarmed. “It _is_ your special day? I didn’t bring a present!”

Wash sighs. “Again, Caboose, we’re not engaged.”

“I think we all have questions, like when you decided to announce it to everyone,” Carolina says, raising an eyebrow at Wash, who flushes and smiles a little guiltily at her. “But I think we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, sure,” Grif says. “Where’s the cake?”  

“This way!” Donut says, gesturing grandly. He leads the way, and Grif follows close behind. At least some cake will be a balm after the ridiculousness of this conversation.

As they walk, Tucker sidles up to Wash. He pitches his voice low, but it still carries to Grif’s ears. “Like, I guess congrats and stuff, but...Donut? I don’t get it, dude. Are all the weird innuendos a turn-on for you or something? Is that your kink?”

Wash rolls his eyes. “Yes, Tucker. My secret kink is terrible innuendo,” he deadpans. Then he smiles, that same fond look from earlier. It’s sort of like the expression he gets whenever Caboose is being Caboose, except sappier. Grif realizes, with a jolt of surprise, that Wash actually _likes_ Donut. Not that he thought they were setting up some elaborate prank or anything, but it finally registers for him that Donut and Wash are dating.

As Grif absorbs this weird new fact, Wash says, “Look, you guys really underestimate Donut. We spent a lot of time together trying to fix the timeline, and I got to know him. He’s kind and loyal and funny, and a good guy. I just….” He shrugs, but the fondness changes his entire expression. “I like him.”

In front of them, Donut has clearly heard every word. He’s flushed and smiling, looking startled and pleased all at once, as though he’s still not used to Wash’s compliments.

His happiness makes Grif feel a little guilty. Maybe they are all still too hard on Donut, though it’s hard to get past all the stupid innuendo bullshit and just Donut's general, annoyingly overwhelming optimism. Whatever, he decides. It’s good that _someone_ appreciates Donut. Grif walks just fast enough to catch up with Donut. He nudges him with an elbow. “So what kind of cake are we talking about here? Chocolate? Yellow? Red velvet?” He doesn’t give Donut a chance to respond, adding, “You and Wash made it together, right? I noticed the piping stains on your hands. And if there’s any stains anywhere else I don’t want to know about them. Keep that PDA stuff to a minimum.” He reconsiders. “Unless you want to break Tucker’s brain, then go for it.”  

Donut blinks at him. He looks slightly confused. “Um. Okay. We’ll keep that in mind, I guess?” He drops his voice to a confiding whisper. “Honestly, Wash only agreed to this announcement because I reminded him about Tucker’s bet.”

Grif snickers. “Nice. An asshole move. He’s truly one of us now.”

“And he wasn’t already?” Donut asks.

“Focus, Donut. What’s the cake flavor?”

“Oh, chocolate with a strawberry ganache.”

“Nice,” Grif repeats, meaning it. He turns and calls over his shoulder, “Hey, Wash, can you guys be that couple that makes a cake for your weekly anniversary? I’ll put up with a lot of lovey-dovey crap for cake.”

“So you want us to bribe you,” Wash says, eyebrows raised.

“That’s what it sounds like to me,” Carolina agrees, laughter in her voice. “But I wouldn’t object to more cake.”

Doc perks up. “I know some great vegan recipes--”

Grif groans. “You’re ruining it.”

“A cake every week seems slightly excessive,” Wash says.

“I agree! Maybe for our monthly anniversaries,” Donut says, and then seems to realize what he’s implied. He flushes again, tapping a finger against his scarred cheek and laughing nervously. “Well, I mean--”

“Yeah,” Wash says, his expression softening. “Sounds like a plan.”

Donut and Wash smile slowly at each other.

Grif can practically see hearts in their eyes. “Yeah, _such_ a PDA couple,” he mutters, and goes in search of cake.


End file.
